


Promises, Promises

by Mellacita



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellacita/pseuds/Mellacita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine keeps a promise made during "You Two Have Got Yourselves in a Bit of a Pickle."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises, Promises

Gwaine had insisted on getting his own room. Where he got the gold, Merlin didn't know. He hoped he wasn't going to pay the innkeeper with leprechaun gold. That just wasn't sporting. They might get thrown out, and Merlin didn't really want to get thrown out. He was still suffused with the warmth of Gwaine's promises in his ear, and his arms still tingled from being bound.

"Why can't you just bunk with Lancelot?" Arthur asked when they reached the inn. "Merlin'll stay with me like we always do."

"Oh, now," Gwaine said with a quick grin. "Who knows what sort of comely company might find their way to me? Doubt Lancelot would appreciate waiting out in the hallway."

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Indeed he would not."

Arthur shrugged. "Fine. Let's just get settled in, shall we? I need a bath, and Merlin, I need you to mend my tunic; it's a disaster."

"Give the lad a break, why don't you?" Gwaine said. "He's been through an ordeal, too."

Arthur reddened and refused to look at either Merlin, who was biting the inside of his cheek and trying to look very put-upon, and Gwaine, whose solemn expression was ruined when his tongue darted out to lick wetly along his bottom lip. Lancelot just looked on, bemused.

Merlin made fast work of helping Arthur with the bath two serving boys had lugged up the stairs, every creaking floorboard of their journey driving Merlin mad with the need to get Arthur settled, then finding Gwaine. He scrubbed Arthur efficiently, pouring water over his head so swiftly that Arthur was left sputtering, and then mended Arthur's tunic while Arthur ate the bread, cheese, and cold chicken sent up by the innkeeper's wife.

"Merlin," Arthur started. Merlin didn't answer, just concentrated on his stitching. 

"Merlin!" Arthur repeated.

"What?"

"Put that down and eat some of this. You've not put anything in that belly of yours all day."

Merlin gave a small smile. That wasn't...strictly true. He looked up at Arthur with a fond smile. "I'm just about finished with this, sire."

Arthur's eyes narrowed a little at the honorific, but he didn't reply, just dished some food onto another plate and set it across from him at the small table. Merlin finished his stitching in silence, finally setting it aside and joining Arthur at the table.

"You...helped us out of a tight spot today, Merlin. I...I mean, you know. Thanks."

Merlin stopped with a piece of cheese halfway to his open mouth.

Arthur looked away and squirmed. "I just mean...it was very, you know, brave of you. To lower yourself that way to spare me."

"I could hear it was Gwaine. I knew it would be fine."

"Well, I mean, you still...that is. Well. He's a good man. He won't... lord it over you. Just doing what needed to be done and all."

Merlin really did not want to be having this conversation. "Let's not mention it again, then."

Arthur nodded and looked relieved. "Yes, I agree. It's forgotten."

Merlin ate hurriedly, gulping down great mouthfuls of bread and chicken, until Arthur looked at him with incredulous eyes. "What is with you, Merlin? Have you someplace else to be?"

"No," Merlin said with his mouth full. "I was going to go downstairs and dice with Gwaine." 

"Even after...I mean, right, not mentioning it. You, ah, don't gamble."

Merlin shrugged. "Well, he invited me."

"And not me?" Arthur looked almost sad.

Bugger. He hated it when Arthur looked sad. He got all pensive looking, and pout-y, and it made Merlin imagine Arthur as a little boy, pouting until he got whatever he wanted, because, really, who could resist a pout like that? But Gwaine had some promises to fulfill, and if Merlin didn't get to be on the receiving end of them soon, he was going to start pouting in a way that would put wee Arthur Pendragon to shame. And then Arthur would take the piss, and Merlin would end up lying in his bed listening while Arthur told him stories about melees and jousting and catching wild boars and while normally Merlin liked listening to Arthur's stories (not that he would admit it), tonight, he really, really wanted beard burn on the insides of his thighs more than anything else. And he wasn't likely to get that from Arthur, and Merlin was just going to leave that train of though aside. 

Besides, Arthur really looked a bit silly with a beard.

"I'm sure Gwaine just assumed you would join us," Merlin said. "He knows how inseparable we are."

"We are not inseparable!"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't even give me a day off."

"I train every day, and that armour is a two-man job. And what if I dented it? What if I needed to review two dozen scrolls in three hours, and didn't have time to eat? Who would bring me my food? I'm the Prince. I need to keep my strength up. And what if someone tried to force me to marry them? Who would I throw things at in exasperation?"

"Har, har."

"I wasn't joking!"

"Arthur. You're joining us for dice, and that's that." Merlin tried to keep his expression cheerful, even if he really just wanted to shove a sleeping draught down Arthur's throat. Bugger, bugger, bugger.

\--

It was much later than Merlin would have preferred when he finally found himself alone with Gwaine. He'd crept out of the room he and Arthur shared, after casting a spell that would keep Arthur from hearing him leave.

Gwaine had been in the bath when Merlin knocked softly on the door, and Merlin bit his lip when he walked in to see Gwaine lounging in the bath in much the same way he once had Merlin's bed, his broad chest and round nipples on display in the soft light from the fat candles flickering from the tabletop.

"Thought you'd never get away," Gwaine teased.

"Yeah, well, you know. The care and feeding of royalty is a complicated business," Merlin said. "And we weren't exactly helped by the way you kept goading Arthur into one last round to see if he could finally best you at the game." It hadn't mattered in the end--Lancelot was the one who walked off with all their metaphorical shirts. "How'd you even find Lancelot, anyway?"

"Oh, you know, same as always."

"I doubt you saved him from a tavern brawl."

"No, he saved me from a tavern brawl, and we discovered that we have...things in common." Gwaine rubbed the washrag over his chest and eyed Merlin with keen interest. "If you know what I mean. So, are we really going to talk about Lancelot, or are you here for something else?"

Merlin smirked and met Gwaine's eyes in across the room. "I'm here to see if you're a man of your word."

Gwaine hummed. "I think you will find I am always a man of my word, my friend. Now, care to join me?"

"What?"

"You need a bath."

Merlin looked down. He was a bit filthy, still. He'd been in too much of a hurry, and then too distracted, to make use of Arthur's bathwater earlier, and now that he thought about it, he ached. Hot water sounded brilliant.

"Sure we'll both fit in there?"

Gwaine chuckled. "No, but it's fun trying, isn't it? Come on, Merlin." 

"Pretty sure you said you were going to pour me some wine and then take my clothes off."

"Change of plans?"

"Not too many changes to the plans, I hope."

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" Gwaine said, leaning back again into the bath. Merlin didn't know where to look: the filthy, promising grin? The crinkles around Gwaine's eyes, fixed on his own? Or the droplets of water that clung to Gwaine's chest, or the rivulets running down to disappear into the waterline, where just the hint of dark hair became blurry in the washwater. "Now, unless you're planning on bathing in your clothes, Merlin, you might want to take them off."

Merlin's hands flew to his neckerchief, and he tugged at it with impatience. 

"A little more slowly, if you please," Gwaine said.

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "You..." His remark was lost when Gwaine's smile broadened. 

"Don't you worry. I'll keep my promises. Eventually."

Merlin's fingers fumbled with the knot in his neckerchief, but finally the fabric gave way and he let it slither to the ground. Gwaine had reached over the side of the bath to retrieve his wine, and Merlin lost a few long moments to watching Gwaine's Adam's apple bob as he drank deeply, his eyes still fixed on Merlin.

Merlin made short work of the rest, even as he tried to prolong it. He just wasn't wearing that much. The tunic he dragged over his head, although he did toss it behind him with a bit of a flourish that made Gwaine roll his eyes. After that, it was just his boots and his thick socks--and really, he had no idea how to make socks sexy--and trousers. He played with the fly and the laces of his trousers for a bit, then slowly loosened them until his cock was out, half-mast and thickening by the second. He accidentally brushed his own hand against it when he lowered his trousers, and if his bitten back moan and lusty sigh were a bit overplayed, Gwaine didn't seem to mind by the way he stared, his lips slightly parted and breathing hard.

"Lovely," Gwaine finally said, after Merlin stood before him, completely naked and feeling a bit ridiculous and a lot turned on. "Would you mind bringing over those pots off the fire? The water could use some warming up."

Merlin carried over the water, and carefully poured it in the bath. It was an unexpectedly large tub, for an inn, but then the innkeeper was quite a large man. Maybe it was his own. The thought distracted him for all of three seconds before Gwaine reached up to run his fingers softly over Merlin's neck, down his throat all the way to his belly.

"Get in?" Gwaine invited, and really, did he think Merlin was going to say no? He lowered himself into the water, arranging his limbs and Gwaine's until he was sitting in between Gwaine's legs, and sitting back against his chest. He groaned with delight, both at the hot water and the way Gwaine's arms wound around his middle. He let his head fall back onto Gwaine's shoulder. He smelled like wine and soap and firewood.

"God, that's good," Merlin said. He barely recognized his own voice.

"Mmmm," Gwaine agreed. He pressed his wine into Merlin's hand, then took up the wash rag again. "Here's the wine I promised," he said. "Drink up."

Merlin let the wine warm his insides, while Gwaine gently washed Merlin's arms, his chest, his legs. When he got to the tops of Merlin's thighs, he removed the goblet from Merlin's hand, waving off his protests, and set it back on the floor.

"No use wasting good wine when you're sure to drop it," he pointed out, and Merlin frowned in confusion for a moment before he felt Gwaine's hand and the cloth rubbing against his balls and then over his arse, dipping between the cheeks rub insistently for a moment against his hole. Merlin jerked, then choked back a groan. The walls were thin, and if either of their companions burst in here to see what the racket was about, Merlin might have to fend them off with magic until he got his end away. It had been hours since he'd been put on his knees in Jarl's stronghold, hours filled with Gwaine holding him, whispering filthy things to him, making innuendos and winking at him over games of dice. Now he was naked and Gwaine was rubbing a soapy cloth over him--over his cock, now, far too softly to do anything more than drive him mad--and he was going to get what he'd been promised, dammit. Even if he bit his lips bloody in the process of staying quiet.

"Shush," Gwaine said, tossing the cloth to the end of the tub and returning his bare hand to cup Merlin lightly. "We can't do this if you aren't quiet, you know. Don't want to wake the Princess."

Merlin grit his teeth and glared over his shoulder, which Gwaine repaid by running his fingers over Merlin's balls through the water, then trailing his fingertips further back. Without warning, he slipped one into Merlin. Not hard, not forcefully, just...persistent, and the unexpected intrusion made Merlin tilt his head and cry out.

"Your definition of the word quiet leaves a little to be desired, Merlin," Gwaine said, pressing soft kisses to Merlin's jaw. He moved his finger in and out a few times, until Merlin was rocking his hips and sending little splashes of water over the sides of the tub, onto his clothes lying discarded on the rough wooden floor, seeping through the floorboards. When Merlin tried to moan again, Gwaine was ready, his palm covering Merlin's mouth.

"There," he said. "Get it out of your system for now, before I have to find something for you to bite."

There was something quite liberating about being muffled so effectively, Merlin might have thought during a moment of lucidity as he screamed into Gwaine's palm and bit at the skin he found there. Gwaine's other hand was alternating between teasing Merlin's cock head, tickling his balls, and fucking into him at uneven intervals, so utterly maddening that Merlin didn't notice the way the water had cooled, how the fire had started to die, how the air was beginning to make him shiver and his nipples tighten. He was tethered to ground by one hand on his cock and another over his mouth, and the rest of him was plainly trying to launch itself into the sky, squirming and splashing around and generally making a complete mess of the floor, the bath, and probably Gwaine's back, too. None of it mattered, though, not when he was so close after a day of complete sexual frustration and not a little humiliation, and really, Gwaine was a genius, or maybe he wasn't, it wasn't like Merlin even needed genius at this point. A strong wind would do at this point, and just when his toes began to curl and Gwaine's hand over his mouth could barely contain the litany of filth Merlin was babbling...

It stopped. No hand on his cock, nor fingers in his arse, and not even a hand over his mouth. Only feeling Gwaine's muscled chest against his back gave Merlin any indication Gwaine was even still there.

"I'm going to kill you," Merlin said seriously, panting. "Slowly, in your sleep."

Gwaine stroked Merlin's cheek and crooned a bit playfully. "There, there, love. Just take a few deep breaths."

Merlin turned all the way around to straddle Gwaine. "I'll make sure you're banned from every tavern in Albion," he threatened. "And then I'll cut off all your hair, and cut your trousers into ribbons and..."

"Oi. Don't you touch my hair."

Merlin grabbed two handfuls of said hair and pulled. "I like your hair."

"I'll give you a bit to put in a locket, then."

"I'd rather pull on it while you suck me off. Now."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow, and grabbed both of Merlin's wrists behind his back. "Not sure you're in a position to be making demands."

"Look, you. Did I not let you fuck my mouth in front of slave traders? I let you molest me on horseback, and keep me tied up, and I stripped for you, and freshened your bathwater, and I helped you beat Arthur at dice. I nursed your stab wound and let you sleep in my bed and I settled your bill at the tavern and now I want a fucking orgasm and I want it now." Merlin did his best imitation of imperiousness, but by the way Gwaine burst out laughing, he supposed it hadn't quite worked.

"Merlin, Merlin," Gwaine said, still laughing, then released his wrists. "Get up."

"What?"

"The water's cold. We should move this elsewhere." He punctuated this with a light slap on Merlin's arse. "Stoke the fire, would you?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss the part where I acquired an additional master?"

Gwaine just leered.

Merlin huffed, and got out of the tub. Gwaine followed, and tossed him a towel.

"I'm only doing this because it's cold," Merlin said with a grumble. He stoked the fire until it leaped again, filling the room with new warmth. Even with the fire, he shivered a little, and Gwaine took the towel from him and began rubbing it over Merlin's skin carefully, finally rubbing it over Merlin's hair until it was only slightly damp and Merlin was shivering for an entirely different reason.

Clean and dry and the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, they looked at each other in silence for a long minute, until Merlin closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Gwaine's. Gwaine was a bit shorter than Merlin, not by much, but he was certainly stronger than Merlin, and Merlin had to admit that there was nothing quite like being wrapped up in tightly muscled arms while tongues rubbed playfully, then forcefully, together, hot and wet and a little filthy.

At last, Gwaine stepped away. "Right, now, I think I have some promises to keep."

"Finally," Merlin said in a rush. "And be quick about it, would you?"

Gwaine folded his arms.

"I mean, yes, please," Merlin said, schooling his features into guileless innocence. Maybe.

Gwaine shook his head and dug into his pack. "I do miss you when you're not around, Merlin." He pulled out the thin chains he'd unwound from Merlin right before they reached the inn. "You still want me to use these?" he asked.

"That was your idea," Merlin pointed out.

"Fair point. Well, then, unless you wish to lodge a protest, I'm going to use them."

Merlin didn't say anything.

"Alright, then," Gwaine said. He smirked in a way that told Merlin he might regret it, but probably wouldn't be able to think enough to form regrets before too long. "Fetch your scarf for me, would you?"

"You're not gagging me with that," Merlin warned. "It's filthy!"

Gwaine rolled his eyes and scooped the cloth up from where Merlin had dropped it earlier, lonely on the floor. Then he reached out and dragged Merlin over to the bed, sitting him down on it.

"Last chance to back out," Gwaine said softly. He winked at Merlin, who just squared his shoulders. "I won't think any less of you if you just want to have a cuddle and go to sleep."

Merlin's gaze was unimpressed.

"I expected no less," Gwaine said. "Give me your hands."

"Why?"

"Because I asked?"

Merlin held out his hands, and watched as Gwaine wound the neckerchief around them and tied it neatly. At Merlin's quizzical expression, Gwaine tweaked his nose. "Don't want those chains to cut into your wrists."

Merlin fluttered his eyelashes. "My hero," he drawled, then yelped when Gwaine shoved him down onto his back and looped the chains around the rough-slatted headboard and then around and around Merlin's wrists.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Gwaine drew back. "Pull on them a bit, would you?"

Merlin pulled. There was no give, and the thrill that twanged below his navel had the slightest bit of trepidation to it as well. He was at Gwaine's mercy. Again. He looked back up at Gwaine with widening eyes and parted lips, and something in his expression must have caught Gwaine's attention, because he leaned forward and rubbed Merlin's lips softly with his thumb and the back of his forefinger.

"Pretty," Gwaine whispered. He just looked at Merlin for a few seconds, and Merlin could only imagine the picture he made, but Gwaine seemed to like it, judging from the way his cock stood tall and flushed. Merlin relaxed back into the mattress. This was fine. It was Gwaine, after all. Who saved him from thugs and wyverns and slave traders. He'd...

"Don't fret, my friend. I'll take care of you."

...take care of him, Merlin finished thinking, and he thought he might love Gwaine a little. Even if he was a smug, teasing bastard.

"Yeah, I know," Merlin said. "Though it would be nice if you got on with it."

"You do have balls, Merlin, prodding me from your current position."

"I'd be happy to..."

"Prod me?" Gwaine supplied. "Yes, well, perhaps we'll make time for that after our next near-miss disastrous quest."

"Our next one?"

Gwaine leaned down to lick at Merlin's ear. "You and I both know it. Something seems to want us to work together, be together. You, Arthur, me, maybe even Lancelot. It's like..."

"Destiny?" Merlin replied, a little breathless.

"I'm not your destiny, Merlin," Gwaine said, pulling back to look at him seriously. "But maybe our paths lead to the same place."

"What place is that?"

"I think you know."

Merlin bit his lip. "But that doesn't mean we can't...you know, overlap paths for a bit, does it?"

Gwaine ran his hands over the insides of Merlin's stretched-out arms. "I think our paths will overlap quite a lot, if the past few months are anything to go by. I'm glad for it."

"Me too," Merlin said, and he meant it as much as he had meant any of the promises he had made to those he cared about.

Gwaine shook himself, slightly, then grinned again. "So, remind me. What was it I promised to do to you?"

Merlin licked his dry lips. "Uh.You were going to tie me to the bed."

Gwaine nodded. "Done."

"And then you were going to drag your fingers over every inch of my skin."

"Does the bath count?"

"Yes," Merlin blurted out. "Please, yes, it counts."

Gwaine barked with laughter. "Right. And what next?"

Merlin shifted a bit, and tugged on the chains. "I think it was something about sucking bruises into my neck, and my hips and...my feet. You're very odd, you know."

Gwaine shook his head. "No imagination, you manservants." He bent his head, rubbing his nose along the line of Merlin's neck and breathing hot against the skin until Merlin shivered. Then he began to work, applying his tongue and teeth to the pale skin of Merlin's throat like it was a quest all its own, until Merlin could feel tender bruises spreading themselves out under his skin while Gwaine hummed. His cock brushed Merlin's occasionally, and once the thin, light hair on Gwaine's chest rubbed against Merlin's nipples in a way that made him whimper and made Gwaine shush him, and none of it was enough and Merlin was pulling hard against the chains.

"God, Gwaine," Merlin breathed. "Please."

Gwaine raised his head. "Begging already? I've not got to your hipbones or the arches of your feet yet, you know."

"I hate you."

Gwaine wrapped a hand around Merlin's erection and made Merlin's eyes roll back in his head. "Yes, I can see that."

"Bastard."

"Indeed," Gwaine said, then trailed his mouth down Merlin's chest until he was sucking, hard, on the skin over Merlin's jutting hipbones. Gwaine's hair brushed Merlin's cock as he worked, and Merlin shifted his hips from side to side, straining for friction, until Gwaine used his hands on either side to press Merlin's hips into the mattress. Merlin just kicked out then, but Gwaine was far too big and far to strong to be budged.

"Knew I should have tied your feet," Gwaine muttered after Merlin managed to kick Gwaine's calf. "I guess I'll just have to use my hands then," and soon enough, Gwaine had grasped Merlin's ankles and was actually sucking love bites into the soles of his feet.

Merlin bit his lip and wiggled around laughing. "That tickles!"

Gwaine just laughed. "Sorry," he said, but he didn't sound in the slightest bit sorry. He never did, and yet managed to be all the more charming for it. "So, neck, hipbones, feet, done. What next?"

Merlin's stomach was aching from suppressing laughter, and he panted when Gwaine released his feet and let Merlin lie back full on the bed. "And then I get to come," Merlin said, a bit pleading.

"Skipping ahead in the programme? Shame on you."

Merlin knew better, but he pulled on his wrists again anyway. It was sort of...nice, the way they wouldn't give, but he was getting tired and he was pretty sure he was going to die if he didn't get to come soon. He said as much to Gwaine, who frowned and reached for the chains. "Do you want to stop?" Gwaine said, looking worried.

Merlin considered. "No."

Gwaine looked relieved.

"Although you must be dying of frustration yourself," Merlin added, hopefully. 

Gwaine tilted his head. "Nah, I'm good. Some slave boy gave me the mother of all blow jobs earlier."

Merlin just glared and kicked out with his legs, until Gwaine caught one again. "Enough. Now tell me what I said I would do next."

"You were going to, ah, bite my nipples, then fuck me with your fingers, and lick my balls until I was begging to come," Merlin said hoarsely.

"Ah, so I was," Gwaine agreed, and Merlin could only lie there while Gwaine teased his nipples for far longer than strictly necessary. When Gwaine let his hands trail back to Merlin's arse, Merlin all but cried in relief. He was still a bit loose from where Gwaine had fingered him in the bath, but this was better. Gwaine had brought out some sort of oil, not the best smelling but slippery and useful, and before long had three fingers pressed inside, persistent, while he ran the flat of his tongue sloppy and hot over Merlin's sac. He ignored Merlin's cock, and Merlin couldn't even complain about this, not while he was bent in on himself with his legs in the air and Gwaine's fingers pushing rhythmically in and out of his hole, smoothly for a while then punctuated occasionally with harder, sharper thrusts in that made Merlin jerk and his breath hitch with something close to a sob.

"Gwaine," Merlin said, trying to get his attention. "Gwaine!"

Gwaine pulled up, but kept his fingers buried in Merlin's arse. "Alright?"

Merlin was shaking now, really shaking, and panting, and his vision was a little blurry and God, he hoped he wasn't actually crying because that was just embarrassing. "The next part was begging, right?"

Gwaine gave a short nod. 

"Good. So listen up." Merlin took a deep, shuddering breath. "Please."

"That all you've got?"

"Hardly. Shut it and let me talk."

Gwaine just thrust his fingers in, hard, making Merlin whimper and his eyes squeeze shut on a grimace.

"Please. I can't...just. Please, please, please, Gwaine. I'll let you do whatever you want, please. Anything." This was nothing like Merlin's charade from before. He meant every whispered word.

"You're already letting me do whatever I want."

Merlin groaned. He was covered in sweat, and the air was stifling, and Gwaine looked like some sort of god in the firelight, smooth skin and hard muscle and he reeked of sex and Merlin wanted to touch, wanted to taste, but more than any of that, really, really wanted to come.

"Please," Merlin repeated.

"You know, there is one thing you forgot to mention," Gwaine said conversationally. "The part where you beg me to let you stop coming."

"I don't think you get much control over that," Merlin said, gasping.

"Maybe not, but rest assured I'll give it my best try. So, you know, keep that in mind when you're begging."

"I already begged," Merlin ground out.

"Yes, and it was like music to my ears. Do go on."

Merlin was pretty sure he was going to end up doing something unwise and magical if this kept on much longer. 

"Come on, Gwaine."

"What, no more begging?" Gwaine asked, removing his fingers and leaning down to lick lightly at Merlin's cock head. Not enough to bring him over, though. Just enough to make his writhe and twist some more on the now-impossibly tangled and sweat-stained sheets. Some of the ticking was even coming free. Merlin took it as long as he could, breathing hard and struggling until his muscles ached and he collapsed back down.

"I can't," Merlin whispered. "I can't take anymore. Please."

Gwaine stared at him. Finally, he leaned down and kissed Merlin softly. "Okay."

Merlin just stared back, his eyes pleading.

"Okay," Gwaine repeated, tracing patterns on Merlin's chest with the pads of his fingers. If was meant to comforting, it didn't quite work, but it felt good anyway. "What do you want?"

Merlin shook his head. He couldn't even say what he wanted anymore. "Just...something. Anything."

"Anything" turned out to be Gwaine sucking his brains out through his cock, and were Merlin not a complete jabbering wreck, he might have appreciated the symmetry to their earlier encounter. As it was, he just bucked up hard and furious while Gwaine suckled and lapped and hummed, nearly making Gwaine choke until he had to press his hands above the love bites he'd left on Merlin's hipbones to hold him still. Then, finally, Merlin came, coming so hard he couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything but white and couldn't feel anything but Gwaine's mouth and the back of his throat swallowing each pulse down.

He must have blacked out for a minute, because when he opened his eyes again, his arms were lying limply above his head, out of the chains, and Gwaine was straddling Merlin's chest, jerking himself off with a punishing stroke. When Merlin lifted a hand to help him, Gwaine just caught it in his free hand and pressed it back to the bed. 

"I've got this. You just rest," Gwaine said, his voice raspy and sort of fond, and within seconds he was biting his lips and coming hard all over Merlin's sweat-slick chest. Merlin gasped as he felt Gwaine's come drip thickly into his navel, and over his sides onto the sheets. He gasped again when Gwaine fell forward on his hands and proceeded to lick Merlin clean before collapsing half onto Merlin, breathing hard.

Neither spoke for several minutes, while Merlin toyed idly with Gwaine's hair.

Finally, Merlin spoke. It took him a few tries to find his voice. "You know, I don't think I begged you to stop."

Gwaine didn't move from where he lay, face down beside Merlin. "My mistake," he said with a breathy laugh. "Next time."

"Next time might kill me," Merlin said.

"I doubt that. I'm not sure I've ever known someone who can take as much as you."

Merlin got the feeling Gwaine wasn't talking about sex, and moreover, he was probably right. 

"I'm sure you could," Merlin offered, and Gwaine rolled over onto his back and chuckled. 

"We'll have to find out sometime, after we get you and Arthur and all of Camelot out of this latest pickle, then."

Merlin licked his lips and gave Gwaine his dirtiest smile. "I look forward to it," he said.

"Me too."

Merlin didn't go back to his and Arthur's room until early in the morning. It had been so dark, and quiet, and Gwaine had felt so good spooned around Merlin in the cocoon of blankets that in the end, Merlin hadn't been able to leave. He fell asleep to Gwaine pressing kisses into his shoulder, and woke up to Gwaine's cock pressing into his thigh.

Camelot was in trouble and destiny was calling, but in the dark moments just before dawn, Merlin allowed himself a few more minutes of respite.

\--

Merlin snuck back to his room in stocking feet, his boots in his hand. He'd washed with the cold, leftover bathwater, but he still felt a bit sticky and more than a little tender. He hoped he wouldn't wake Arthur, and he didn't. Because Arthur was already awake, dressed, and eating his breakfast, and was looking at Merlin with a sort of resigned amusement.

"Arthur! You're awake. I'm just...I mean...you know," he said, waving a hand nebulously. "Um. Dice. Ale. And...tavern wenches."

Arthur rolled his eyes and tossed an apple to Merlin. "Sit down and eat something before we leave. Who knows when we'll have another chance."

Merlin sat, trying to not to reveal how stiff and sore he was. Worth every ache, certainly, but in hindsight, probably not the best way to rest during a quest. But hindsight be buggered. It has been one of the best nights of Merlin's life.

As Merlin ate, Arthur began reciting instructions. "We should have the horses shod while we're here. And we need to get some packs with supplies. A water skin for each of us, and probably some sort of sword for you. Maybe one of the local lads has grown out of his childhood sword--" Merlin scowled at that--"and some food for the road. Oh, and Merlin?"

Merlin swallowed hastily. "Yes, Arthur?"

"Don't let Gwaine hear you call him a tavern wench." Arthur didn't look at him while he said it but there was a slight smile pulling at his lips. "It's too good an insult for me not to use it myself."

Merlin nodded, and tried not to grin like an idiot. Maybe this destiny thing wasn't so tough after all.


End file.
